Inferno
by NettieC
Summary: In the middle of the Californian summer, Harm and Mac's plans to spend the weekend in a cottage are ruined by an approaching inferno. How can they survive?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: not mine

AN: There will be a long AN at the end of the third chapter to give some background to this story.

Inferno Part 1/3

It was supposed to be their first romantic getaway. Well, romantic probably wasn't the best description. It was the middle of a hot Californian summer and Harm and Mac had concluded a ten day investigation in San Diego. Wrapping things up on the Thursday morning, General Cresswell had graciously agreed to them remaining on the west coast for the weekend.

Although working hard for the duration, Harm had still managed to catch up with mother and step father on three occasions, which was three times more than in the whole two years prior. Whilst Mac had been invited to the two dinners, and Sunday lunch, she declined, not wanting to interfere with Harm's family time. In addition, she also wasn't sure what it all meant.

Sure, they'd been a lot closer in recent months. Sure, they had shared a lingering goodnight kiss their last Saturday night in DC after they had spent the evening eating pizza and watching DVDs at Mac's place. Sure, she wanted to take it further, but going from nothing to dining with the 'in-laws' seemed a bit much.

Disappointment was Harm's primary emotion. For years, he had wanted to introduce Mac to his parents just as much as his parents wanted to meet her. He couldn't fathom why she wouldn't come out to dinner on the Tuesday night. It was just dinner, at a Chinese restaurant – Mac loved Chinese. Frank was friends with the owner and he wanted to show off his stepson, and he also wanted Mac to be there.

Knowing how hard it had been to get Harm onside when he'd first met Trish, Frank could only imagine getting Mac onside would be twice as hard. Taking matters into his own hands, he called her on the Monday night, just as she stepped out of the tub in her temporary officer's billet. Asking her first, he got the negative reply he'd been anticipating. Using his best sales tactics, he got Mac to agree after issuing the fifth invitation.

After the intense negotiations needed to get them all around the one table at Silver Leaf, the dinner was a wonderful success. Surprised she was nervous to walk through the restaurant door, Mac soon relaxed and the evening quickly disappeared amongst friendly chatter and reminiscing.

During the dinner, Trish had offered them the use of Attwood Cottage for the weekend and they had accepted on the proviso they could get the time off. With everything falling into place for them, they had arrived at the cottage mid-morning Friday, ready for a relaxing break and maybe, just maybe, the chance to take things further. Although neither one voiced this for fear it would jinx the whole thing.

It was a hot but delightful day. Soon after arriving, Mac stood in the living room with her bag in hand, wondering what the sleeping arrangements would be. She knew she was standing by the door to the master bedroom and wasn't sure what Harm was thinking. Part of her wanted to share the room with him regardless of whether anything actually happened, the other part wanted separate rooms, to keep them from rushing things. As she considered this minor detail, she realised that ten years as partners and with very strong feelings for Harm for most of it, 'rushing it' was not at all possible.

With a newfound resolve, she headed into the bedroom and marvelled at the rustic feel of it. Everything about it oozed comfort and she was quite sure she'd sleep soundly here, if she was allowed.  
"It's a beautiful room,"said Harm with a smile, entering the room behind her.  
"Oh, it is," Mac enthused, turning round to him. The first thing she noted was his empty hands, his bag nowhere to be seen.  
"I'm sure you'll be very comfortable in here. Mom says it's the most peaceful place on earth," he said, moving to open the window to let in the fresh country air.  
"And where will you be?" she asked in her best non-affected voice.  
"Next door," he said, tilting his head to the left. "There's a bedroom there too – not as grand as this one though."  
"Oh," she nodded. "You can take this one if you like, I don't mind," she said, picking up her bag.  
"But if you're in there, I'll have no excuse to come in here, will I?" He grinned.

As Harm disappeared out the door, Mac smiled. Maybe, just maybe, after all this time, they were on the same page. She could only hope.

Lunch was on the porch, looking up at the picturesque mountain. The cottage had been in Frank's family for generations and Mac could instantly see why they had never given it up. The trees were plentiful; old, strong trees which had seen the seasons come and go since time immemorial. The meandering stream nearby could be seen in part but not always heard as the heat of the season and diminished rainfall of recent years had caused much of it to dry up. Birdlife was prevalent and on more than one occasion a feathered friend made his way to their table, hankering for a crumb or two of the delicious meal Harm had organised.

Their tasty repast was followed by an ambling stroll along one of the countless trails which threaded its way among the trees. Chatting amiably as they went, both took turns pointing out things which caught their interest; a bird, a plant, a tree, a squirrel with a striking resemblance to Cresswell, or at least that's what Harm thought. Somewhere along the trail, Mac slipped her hand into Harm's, he glanced at her when her fingers laced with his but said nothing. When he gently squeezed her hand, she smiled in relief.

In the early evening, back at the cottage, Mac curled up on the sofa with a book from the vast bookshelf Frank had crafted himself, while Harm busied himself tinkering with an old radio Frank was having trouble with. By the time Mac was ready for bed, Harm had fifty six different radio pieces strewn across newspaper on the kitchen table.  
"I'm heading off to bed now," Mac yawned, padding over to him, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Are you going to get this all back together?"  
"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled. It would be a challenge but he'd succeed, he'd missed doing these sorts of things. How he longed for the days where he could work on his plane or his car ~ hands on, greasy, dirty work.  
"Don't stay up too late," she said, kissing his head. If Harm wasn't going to take the lead, then she would.  
"I won't," he replied, turning in his chair to wrap his arm around her waist, his hand still in midair so as not to dirty her clothes. "Did you have a good day?"  
"I had a great day," she smiled. "I'm so glad we came up here."  
"Yeah, me too," he nodded. Using his arm he pulled her closer to him and reached up to kiss her. It was a slow, smouldering kiss which ended too soon for Mac.

Hopping into bed, Mac's mind was swirling with the possibilities of that kiss … what it meant, what it may lead to. Relaxing into the plush comfort of a mattress made in heaven, Mac lay and listen to the night sounds of the cabin. The external sounds combined to make Mother Nature's own nocturnal lullaby. But it was those from inside the cabin that she focused on more and more. The tinkering of Harm's tools, the scraping of his wooden chair on the floor boards, the fridge opening, the cap coming off his bottle.

Despite her brain registering what he was doing, and her mind creating its own images of him, her heart was desperate to hear the sounds of him approaching her bedroom. Once or twice she thought she heard footsteps coming closer, but she was wrong. At one stage she thought her door was opening, she was wrong. As the time dragged on and sleep tried to claim her, Mac became more annoyed that he would prefer to spend time with a broken down forty year old radio than her.

Needless to say, although well rested, Mac wasn't in any better a mood when she awoke not long after dawn to find Harm already up, sitting in the armchair reading. Sighing deeply, she shook her head; now there were two things he preferred to her.  
"Hi Mac, he greeted as she moved through the sitting room to the kitchen dressed in grey sweats.  
"Hi," she replied without enthusiasm, continuing on her journey.  
"Sleep well?" he asked, resting the still opened book on his stomach.  
"Yes, thank you," she answered. In the kitchen she filled her water bottle. Harm watched her curiously. The only word he could think of to describe her responses was cool.

Moving from the kitchen, Mac padded over to the door and slid on her trainers.  
"Going for a run," she said, opening the door and heading out.  
"Wait! I'll come with you," he said, jumping up from the chair. Mac didn't reply nor did she wait and by the time Harm grabbed his trainers from his room, Mac was long gone.

Full of energy and annoyance looking for a way out, Mac ran and ran until the sweat poured from her and her dry parched throat begged for mercy. Chastising herself for not drinking the water as she went, she drank the entire contents in one shot. Mac started off once more before she slowed to a walk and then stopped suddenly. Taking a 360o look around she realised she hadn't followed any set path and had no real idea where she was. Being a marine, she wasn't all that perturbed; sure she could find both water and a way out before too long.

Meanwhile, Harm had set off after her and, despite his thorough training and knowledge of the area, could find no sign of her on the main track leading from the cabin. Surprised by her sudden departure and his inability to find her, Harm turned back towards the cabin after twenty minutes to await her return.

Grabbing two bottles of water, he sat on the front step and opened one for himself, leaving the other to the side for Mac. As he did, his eyes scanned the distance for any sign she was on her return home but it was a futile effort and he'd finished his water before he stood up and scanned the horizon again.

After two hours had passed, Harm's concern escalated, anything could have happened to Mac out there and the extreme heat of the day along with the strong northerly winds were not ideal. In fact, they were prime fire conditions and with the slight smoky scent to the air, Harm hoped there was nothing seriously amiss out there.

Two hours dragged to three and still there was no sign of Mac. Leaving a scribbled note on the table which told Mac in no uncertain terms she wasn't to leave if she returned before he did, Harm filled a back pack with several bottles of water, a towel, some fruit and a box of chocolates protected by an ice pack; if Mac was still out there running in this heat then she'd need all of it.

Quickly scouring the trails and hills for any sign Mac was returning, Harm set off in the direction he assumed she had gone – the biggest trail and the one directly in front of the cottage. Not wanting to exhaust himself, Harm maintained a steady pace as he jogged down the trail, stopping every now and then to double check for any signs of Mac and to call her name. It was a fruitless effort; Mac was nowhere to be found.

Cutting through the trees, towards another trail he knew well, Harm caught sight of something which was out of place. Trotting over to the tree, Harm found a swatch of blue fabric snagged on a branch, the same fabric Mac had been wearing that morning when she breezed past him.

Taking the material with him, Harm now had greater confidence he was on the right path. 300 metres later, he found a bottle discarded and it was the same kind as he had with him. This was both good and bad news, good that he was closer to Mac than before, bad that she was out in 100+ degree heat with no water.

After another hour of searching, Harm stopped by a dry creek bed to rehydrate. Grabbing one bottle of water he took only as much water as he needed, wanting to extend the life of his supply for as long as possible. To gain extra energy, he ate an apple, his eyes never once stopping their scanning of the surrounding area.

With the air getting heavier and the smell of smoke growing, Harm knew time was running out. While there may be no fires in the immediate area, he knew the drill and that was that all people were expected to evacuate the mountain as early as possible. Knowing it was already past noon, Harm knew time was of the essence.

Ten strides into his next search, Harm saw something ahead in the creek bed that made his heart lurch, a blue, crumpled form lying amid the rocks. His jog became a sprint as he raced to the site at least 200 metres away. Instead on the body he was anticipating, he found Mac's blood stained blue tee on top of a rock.  
"Mac!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "MAC!"

Anxiously, he scurried about the area trying to figure out which way she had gone. He'd left the tee on the rock in case she was using it as a marker – he'd left a bottle of water with it just in case she returned. "Mac!" he continued to call as he searched. "Mac!"

The smell of smoke was strengthening, as was the darkening colour of the sky. The heat was oppressive and sweat continued to pour from Harm as he received countless cuts and scratches from the dry, sharp branches and many rocks which peppered the forest floor.

With his own throat dry and parched from the heat and smoke and hoarse from his screaming Mac's name, Harm continued scouring the area in the hope of any sign of Mac. Forty minutes later, with blood streaming from a cut to his forehead due to a low overhanging branch he hadn't seen, Harm caught sight of movement in the distance. With his head swirling and his sight becoming impaired, he hoped against hope that the vision in the distance was the woman he loved, not a mirage.

"Mac!" he called with what little strength and voice he had left. "Please God, Mac!"

The movement stopped and he quickly closed the distance.  
"Mac!" he continued to call, hoping it was her and not one of the wildlife which made its home in the mountains.

"Oh, thank God!" he exclaimed when he finally saw her. She was bloody, dirty and her upper torso only clad in a bra and deep scratches evident on her back.  
"Mac!"

Slowly, she turned to face him, her face flushed, her eyes swirling with heat exhaustion.  
"Harm!" she managed and as soon as he touched her she collapsed in his arms.

Slumping to the ground with her, Harm quickly took off the backpack and grabbed a bottle of water. Unscrewing the lid, he brushed her hair from her face before tilting the bottle to her mouth and begging her to drink. It took her a few moments to coordinate her actions but soon the liquid gold filled her mouth and trickled down her throat.

"You're okay, you're okay," he whispered, not sure if he was trying to soothe her or convince himself. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, her skin nearly dry in the one area he thought would be damp with sweat. It was a testament to her state of utter dehydration.

Once she'd finished the first bottle, Harm grabbed a second and tipped a small amount onto his shirt before using it to wipe the dirt smears from her face. Easing Mac up a bit further so she was sitting up, but still leaning against his chest, Harm used his damp shirt to try and soothe her fiery skin. All the while she just looked up at him with cloudy brown eyes and watched the concern dancing across his face.

"Sorry," she managed in a hoarse whisper. "So sorry."  
"Ssh," he replied, holding her a little tighter. "Everything's okay," he added, not too sure what she was apologising for but well aware she wasn't in any state to have a proper conversation. "Just rest."

Ten minutes later, after feeding her some chocolate, helping her drink a little more and giving her a banana to eat, Harm assisted Mac to lean against a nearby tree before standing to stretch his legs and check out their surroundings. From his vantage point he had a fair idea as to where they were and knew it was an arduous trek back to the cottage if they took the direct route – something which was necessary given the fire in the area.

"I can make it," Mac said as she registered what was on his mind.  
"It will be very rough going," Harm replied, making his way back to her.  
"I can make it," she repeated, taking a deep breath and forcing herself up from the ground.

Quickly, one of Harm's arms was wrapped around her and he steadied her against his body.  
"Are you sure?" he asked, although he knew it was redundant as she would say yes and they'd have to make an attempt anyway.  
"Yes," she replied. "But you might have to help me."

Harm was right in his assessment; the hour long trek back to the cottage was through some of the harshest terrain of the mountain. There were steep inclines, unforgiving undergrowth and the thick smoky air wasn't helping in the least. The only good point, if there was one, was that the environment caused them to move slowly which was good as it was all Mac could manage.

Coughing and panting, Mac almost collapsed in relief when she saw the cottage up ahead. She knew they would have to evacuate the mountain but right now she wanted to fall into the bath and drink a tub full of water. Stumbling over a partially hidden rock, Mac was caught by Harm who had kept one eye on her the entire time.  
"We're nearly there, honey," he said quietly as he steadied her.  
"I know," she replied before a coughing fit overtook her.  
When she stumbled again, Harm did the easiest thing and scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way.

Thinking they were finally safe, Mac sighed deeply as Harm returned her feet to the ground.  
"You okay for a few minutes?" he asked, holding her in place.  
"Yeah," she said with a nod.  
Harm left her to grab a large water jug from the fridge.  
"Mac?" he called when he turned around to find her missing from where he had left her.  
"Here," she replied.

Following her voice, Harm found her sitting in the bathtub with the shower pouring cold water over her head. She hadn't bothered removing the rest of her clothes as that would have required too much energy,  
"Drink this," he said, handing her the jug before he disappeared from the bathroom.

While Mac tried to rehydrate, Harm used his cell to contact the local fire service. As he waited for someone to give him information specific to his area, he turned on the radio, thankful he had finally got in going in the wee hours of the morning. Finding the local station, Harm listened as they listed the evacuation centres in the area.

"Sir," came the voice down the line. "Roads from your location are now blocked. We advise that you don't try and come down the mountain."  
"What are we supposed to do then?" he questioned, fear growing by the moment as the air and heat became oppressive.  
"Our advice is to use your bath or water tank, submerge yourself and cover your heads with a blanket," the man said. More advice was given as Harm made a mental note of all the things which had to be done. "Good luck," was the last thing he heard before the line went dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: not mine but the mistakes are.

Inferno Part 2/3

While Mac was in the tub right now, Harm didn't consider it to be the safest place. After all, if the house burned, the bathtub wouldn't save them. Going out the back door, Harm checked out the large water tank located 50 metres from the house. Peeling off half the metal cover, Harm was pleased to find the tank three quarters full. Racing back to the house, he entered the bathroom and told Mac they needed to conserve as much water as possible.

Moving rapidly through the house, Harm collected woollen blankets, a few items that Harm knew Frank treasured, a supply of food and water, all of which he put into multiple plastic bags and hooked them to the inside of the tank so they'd be prepared for any situation.

With the sound of the fires roaring closer, Harm knew their time was now extremely limited. With very little he could do to save the cottage or the car, Harm went and got Mac from the tub. While she was doing better than she was before her bath, she wasn't quite herself and Harm found it easier to scoop her up and carry her out the back rather than explain and argue why it was necessary.

"Just get in," he said as he stood below her on the makeshift steps he'd fashioned.  
"I just had a bath," she replied, not moving.  
"Mac, get in the water tank," he said firmly. "It's our only chance."  
"For what?" she questioned, seemingly oblivious to the nearby raging fire.  
"For god's sake," he yelled, frustrated. Jumping up beside her, Harm grabbed Mac and tossed her into the tank, ignoring the obscenities and very vocal protests.  
"What the hell?" she shouted as he climbed in after her.  
"We need to be in here," he said calmly. "It's too late to leave the mountain."

Whether it was the crashing of a nearby burning tree or the stifling air which was burning her lungs as she struggled to breathe or a lifting of the dehydration confusion, Mac began to realise the peril they were in.  
"Shit, the fire," she said looking around and finally registering the danger they were facing.  
"We're okay," he said, taking her arm and pulling her closer to him.

Mac couldn't believe the situation they were in, nor could she believe she hadn't been aware of it any sooner. One look at Harm's face told her he was well aware of the risk which now confronted them and even more concerned about her.

"I'm okay," she said, looking at him and allowing herself to be pulled through the water to him.  
"I know," he agreed, wrapping an arm around her as he pulled the blanket around their shoulders.  
"It's my fault we couldn't leave, isn't it?" she questioned, raising the cover above her head.  
"Let's not worry about fault," he replied, raising the blanket so he could investigate a splash in their tank – it was a falling branch, its flames doused by the water. Quickly, he tossed it out before covering them over once more and trying to submerge further into the tank, highly concerned about the amount of burning debris now falling on and around them.  
"Harm," Mac said quietly as she pressed into him. "I'm really sorry."  
"It's okay," he repeated, now certainly wasn't the time for blame and recriminations.

Even in the darkened space they were enclosed in under the blanket, Mac could read his face. She knew he was worried, even scared, though he was trying hard not to show it. Knowing she had put them in this predicament, Mac struggled with her guilt as they clung together in the warming water. The roar of the approaching fire filled her ears and the smoke seeped through and under the blanket stinging her eyes.

In all her life she had never found herself in such a perilous place. If it was only herself, she would accept that she had been reckless in taking off that morning when she had been warned by Frank about the fire risk in the area, and take whatever fate handed her. However, it wasn't just her – she had put Harm in the firing line, literally, and the thought made her feel physically ill.

Knowing time could be ebbing away from them, Mac decided to act. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed flush against Harm, her legs wrapping around his as they struggled to stay as far beneath the surface as possible.  
"I've got you. I've got you," Harm all but yelled into her ear, wanting to be heard over the firestorm above them.

Mac's reply came in the form of a sound kiss to his lips. At first, Harm thought it was an accidental contact, as it was very dark under the blanket. However, as Mac deepened the kiss, Harm was left in no doubt that her actions were definitely intentional and so he responded in kind. If the worst was going to happen, he wasn't going to die without one last kiss with Mac...which technically, would only be their second real kiss, their first at her engagement party. Harm mentally shook his head – why couldn't they get their act together in less volatile situations?

Within minutes the fast and furious fire seemed to have passed overhead, Harm reluctantly pulled back and took a look at what now surrounded him. There were trees still smouldering and ash and debris still falling. As he scanned the area, his eyes widened – the cottage, though a little charred on the near side had escaped relatively unscathed.  
Mac turned around to face the same direction and smiled when she saw the building still standing.  
"Frank will be relieved," she said, leaning back on him, her energy sapped.  
Harm sighed; he was more than relieved himself.

Tentatively, Harm reached out and touched the corrugated iron which made up the tank, it was still too hot to touch so he used the blanket to protect his hands before pulling himself against the side and looking at what was around the base and whether the steps he'd fashioned were still usable.

"Okay, we should be right to get out," he said, pulling Mac over to the side with him.  
"Okay," Mac agreed, looking at the steps which seemed too far below for them to get out without injuring themselves.  
"I'm going to help you out first," he said. "I'll give you a boost. Stand yourself on the edge, then just step down to the frame, then jump to the top step. I'll keep hold of you, you won't fall."  
"How will you get out then?" she asked, knowing it wasn't going to be an easy feat.  
"Don't worry about me," he said with a reassuring smile. "I have a plan."

Mac got out easy enough though a slight slip at the end saw her graze her shin. Harm's plan on the other hand resulted in a significant gash to his thigh and burns to his hands as he tried to clamber over without help. The injuries were something he had anticipated as there was no safe way for an individual to get out of the tank in the circumstances and he was more than willing to accept the pain to ensure Mac was unscathed.

The instant Mac saw the bloody streak across his sweats she was back to him. She went to grab her shirt and it was then she realised she was only in her bra.  
"What happened to my shirt?" she asked, more than surprised by her state of undress.  
"You took it off on your run," Harm gritted out as he tried to hold the cut closed.  
Mac thought about it for a moment then nodded – there was something vaguely familiar about what he had said, she remembered running and feeling suffocatingly hot, so, not really in her right mind, she'd taken it off.

Leaving Harm propped on a box, Mac raced back into the house and returned with a sheet she'd torn so she could fashion it around his leg. Pulling the makeshift bandage tight, Mac grimaced as Harm moaned in pain.  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she repeated as she ensured it was tight enough and the blood flow had been stemmed.  
It was only once his leg had been managed that Mac realised his palms were burnt.  
"I need to take you to the hospital," she said, trying to kick the marine into action through the haze she was in.

After wrapping her arm around his waist, Mac tried to help Harm to the house. Each step was an experience in pain as he tried to avoid putting his weight on either his leg or on Mac. Propping him on the arm of the sofa, Mac ran to grab his keys before opening the front door and discovering the car was not an option – it was, in fact, a burnt out, smouldering wreck; a testament to just how close the fire had come.

Closing the door, Mac turned back to face them.  
"Change of plans?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"Sort of," she replied, padding across towards him. "Car's destroyed – sorry! We're going to have to wait for help to come to us."  
Not really believing what Mac had said, Harm hobbled to the door and opened it, taking in the very same sight.  
"Sorry," Mac repeated as she came to help him to the sofa. "You lie down and elevate your leg," she instructed. "And I'll get something for your hands."

Making up some cold compresses, Mac wrapped up Harm's hands before using a jug to douse his hands in cool water, something she continued to do every ten or so minutes in between trying to get help via her cell. Something easier said than done.

"I'm going to have to go down the driveway to get help," she said, pulling on a tee.  
"No," he replied, struggling to get up. "You're not going anywhere."  
"Harm, you need to get medical help. That's a very deep and nasty gash," Mac argued as she tried to get him to lie down once more.  
"You're not going," he reiterated. "You're going to stay here with me." After everything that had happened that day, there was no way on earth he was going to let her out of his sight.  
"Harm..." she started.  
"Mac..." he countered.  
They were at a stalemate.

For several minutes they remained with eyes locked on each other – neither willing to concede.  
"Look, Mac...Frank and mom know we are here," Harm started to explain. "The fire service knows we're here..."  
"How?" she questioned.  
"I called them when you were in the tub when we got back. They said the roads were closed and the tank was our only hope," he reported, hoping it would make her realised she needed to stay with him.

Mac shook her head – once again it all came back to it being her fault. Had she not run, had he not had to look for her, had she not gone in the bath when they returned they may have been able to flee. As it was, she was relatively fine whilst he had burns to his hands and a gash which would definitely need stitches and a tetanus shot. The guilt was beginning to overwhelm her.  
"I'm not lying," he said, misreading her actions.  
"No, I know," Mac conceded dropping her head, ashamed to even look at him. "I'm sorry."

Taking a deep breath, Harm motioned for Mac to come closer to him but she wouldn't.  
"Please?" he whispered holding out his hand to her. "Please?" Mac took a step towards him and stretched out her hand so their fingers touched. Harm took the opportunity to take hold of her hand and tug her towards him. "Come here."

With his hands out of action, Harm used the heels of his hand and wrapped one around Mac's leg to bring her closer still.  
"Mac, I don't want to argue," he said quietly, absolutely fatigued by the events of the day and the blood loss he was experiencing. "Right now, I just need to rest...to sleep...and I'm not going to be able to do that if I think you're going to take off the minute I close my eyes."  
"I won't," Mac said just as quietly.  
Harm didn't want to take the risk but he knew voicing this opinion would cause more arguments. "Humour me, Mac, please," he whispered, his throat giving up. "Just lay here with me and nap...twenty minutes max."

Looking at the size of the sofa, Mac wasn't too sure how they could both lie there if Harm was to continue to have his leg elevated. Realising what she was thinking, Harm pushed back as far as he could into the cushions and rolled slightly onto his side, still ensuring his injured leg was raised.  
"Please," he requested before coughing, the smoke in the cottage, and in his lungs still a problem.

Slowly, Mac neared the sofa. She didn't want to do anything to upset him further but she was reluctant to put them in such close proximity.  
"I won't bite," Harm promised with a small chuckle, one which resulted in another coughing fit.  
Mac didn't see the humour in it at all. This whole disastrous experience was caused by the fact that Harm wouldn't or didn't want to do anything to her.  
"What?" he asked when he saw the anger flash across her face.  
"Nothing," she replied. Even though the man was infuriating, he had saved her life and she owed him everything.

Begrudgingly, she lay down next to him and while she tried to avoid pressing into him, it was nigh on impossible.  
"Just relax," he said, snaking one arm under her neck and using the heel of his hand to pull her closer.  
"Ow!" she grimaced as he pushed on one of the many deep wounds on her back the undergrowth had caused during her run that morning.  
"Sorry, sorry," Harm said quickly, raising his hand to her neck. "So sorry."  
"It's okay," Mac said with a cough.

Little more was said between the pair as they settled into the small space they were now sharing. Aside from a string of coughs, there was an odd silence – gone was the birdlife which had been prevalent the day before; gone was much of the mountain beyond their front door.

Now the adrenaline had waned, Harm was feeling the full effects of the day and of his injuries and slipped into a restless sleep quickly. The pain in his leg was growing, as was the pain in his hands. His chest felt heavy and tight and his eyes were painfully dry. Still, he had Mac and she was alongside him and despite everything else that had happened, he could honestly say that all was right with the world.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was to see a fireman standing over them.  
"Glad you're alive," said the young man who had thought the worst finding them both unmoving on the sofa.  
"Me too," he managed before coughing.  
"You okay?" he asked as Harm woke Mac.  
"Need some medical attention," he said, "But nothing major."  
"Okay," said the man. "We have our truck outside; we'll get you to the hospital."  
"How are things out there?" Harm asked as Mac stirred reluctantly in his arms.  
"Bad," he replied. "Lots of properties gone..."  
"People?" Harm asked, after all buildings could be replaced.  
"Unconfirmed – yes," he said with a sad nod. "Up along the ridge alone we have nine unaccounted for. Over in Lextill, most of the town's gone but not too sure about the residents."  
Harm just nodded as the overwhelming feeling of just how lucky they had been washed over him.  
Swallowing hard, Harm kissed Mac's head. "Come on, sleepyhead, time to go."

Riding down the mountain, Harm and Mac barely spoke. The beautiful forest which they had admired only the day before on their drive to the cabin was now forever scarred by the fires which had raced through. The air was still thick with smoke and debris and there were many stumps aglow; a last sign of life in once vibrant trees.

Mac was sitting in the middle of the front seat, the driver on one side, his attention solely on the road and the mission to get these two survivors down to the evacuation centre. There had already been enough tragedy for one day; he wasn't going to add to it. Harm was on her other side, his eyes red through the smoke and ash, just like hers were. A couple of times he looked at her but the words didn't come, so he returned his attention to the abyss beyond the windscreen.

Eventually, the truck pulled into a community hall which was the evacuation centre for Hemingway Mountain. A volunteer paramedic met the vehicle and helped Harm out, a radio call from the driver alerting them to their imminent arrival and situation. Rather than taking them into the hall, Harm was loaded into an ambulance, the blood and soot stained sheet wrapped around his leg told that the bleeding wasn't fully under control.

Mac went to climb in with him but was told she couldn't. After arguing her point, they allowed her to sit in the passenger's seat at the front. She went gladly. While she needed to be with Harm, she wasn't all too sure she could face him at the moment.

The hospital was a crowded, hectic place. Most of the people in the waiting room were suffering smoke inhalation or minor burns; there were a few more serious already beyond the ER doors. Anticipating a long wait, Harm sat up and tried to get off the ambulance gurney, he was quickly restrained by the paramedic and Mac.

"Sir, I'm not sure you realise just how serious your wound is," the young man said. "It's imperative the doctor sees you as soon as possible."

The paramedic was right. It was a serious wound and one which saw Harm in surgery within the hour. The cut was through to the bone, only marginally missing a large artery. The ragged edge of the tank had serrated his flesh and left rust particles embedded in the wound and Harm as a prime candidate for infection.

With Harm being operated on, Mac sat in the surgical waiting room with an IV drip in one arm for rehydration, and a gallon of water beside her to drink. Her eyes had been washed and the wounds on her back seen too; all in the waiting room she had refused to leave.

By the time they were wheeling Harm from the OR to recovery, Mac was more on edge than ever before. Trying to jump up, her IV caught and the needle was ripped out, not that it registered at the time.

"Mrs Rabb?" a nurse said, grabbing her arm to stem the blood. "Your husband will be okay for a few minutes, you need to let me fix your arm and IV."

Mac ignored the wrong name being used; after all, they had often been mistaken for a couple over the years. Besides, seeing Harm was on far more importance than discussing names.

"Ma'am," the nurse insisted, helping Mac to sit. "Please...we are busy enough as it is without having you pass out on us."

There was something in the nurse's tone which caught Mac's attention and she dutifully obeyed. She'd done enough damage to others today by being caught up in her emotions; she wasn't going to do it again.

It took 15 minutes before the IV was reinserted into Mac's other arm and the bleeding from the first site had been stopped and the wound managed. After promising to take things slowly and to report back if anything was amiss, Mac was escorted into the recovery room.

Mac's gasp was audible as she caught her first sight of Harm's pale face. He looked lifeless in the bed and her stomach dropped, causing her to grab onto her IV pole for support.

"He's doing well, ma'am," said another nurse, making some notes on his charts. "The wound has been cleaned and stitched. 42 internal and 35 external. He's on a saline drip with added antibiotics, he's been given a tetanus shot and all his vitals are good."

Mac nodded; her eyes now fixed on the cut across his forehead, why hadn't she noticed that before?

"Before he went under, he said he'd gotten that..." the nurse explained, pointing to the wound Mac was staring at, "Colliding with a tree branch when out running this morning. I have no idea what would have possessed him to run on a day like this...you'd think he'd know these things being in the Navy."

"Aha," Mac replied, although it wasn't much of a response at all.

Moving up the bed, Mac gently caressed his face and placed the gentlest of kisses on his forehead before the nurse ushered her out, saying she could see Harm again once he was in a room.


	3. Chapter 3

Inferno 3/3

Disclaimer: Not mine but the mistakes are.

The wait to see Harm seemed interminably long as Mac walked the corridors with her IV pole and water bottle. With the goings on of the day, Mac knew everyone was working flat out and doing their best; that this small hospital was inundated with more patients, and family members, than they'd probably seen all year. Still, she was anxious and very little else was registering with her.

When finally she found her own way into Harm's room he was asleep and Mac gingerly settled herself into the armchair alongside the bed. Lifting her aching legs, she propped them up on the bed rail and leant back into a pillow which had been resting on the chair. From her vantage point she had the perfect view of Harm and the monitors attached. Every flicker across his face, every ping of some machine were within sight and with the comfort of him being so near and the exhaustion of the day, Mac fell asleep.

It was a gentle hand caressing her face which caused Mac to wake. At first she smiled before her eyes had even opened, then she frowned – Harm shouldn't have been out of bed!

When her eyes were opened she realised that it wasn't Harm at all, it was Frank.  
"Sorry to wake you, sweetheart," he said quietly, tears filling his eyes. "It's just been a desperate day and I needed to talk to one of you."  
"Oh, Frank," Mac replied, hugging the man tightly.  
"Are you okay?" he asked once she'd let him go.  
"Yeah, all minor stuff – too much heat, too much smoke," she answered. "Harm...well..."

Their eyes drifted to the man in question.  
"Harm had a really serious cut to his thigh which needed surgery and some minor burns to his hands," she reported, struggling from her chair to get closer to him. "Doctor says he'll make a complete recovery though," she added for reassurance.  
"How did it happen?" Frank asked and Mac related the details of their ordeal at the cottage in hushed and sombre tones.

When she was done, Frank took a deep breath and reached out for Mac's hand.  
"While I'm glad the cottage is still there, it means nothing compared to the safety and wellbeing of you two. I just don't understand why you stayed there and didn't evacuate when you knew the danger."

Guiltily, Mac hung her head, tears burning her already sensitive eyes.  
"It was all my fault," she whispered. "I was a little annoyed at Harm and took off for a run and he came after me...I had run so far and fast in the heat that I was really unwell and disorientated and by the time he found me it was too late to go anywhere."

"You're usually a very level headed woman, Mac," Frank replied. "Not to mention a very well trained marine. You must have been more than a little annoyed to allow yourself to get into that state." There was no accusation or reprimand in his voice, just concern.

"I guess..." she replied, looking over at Harm.

"What did he do?" he asked, his eyes following hers.

"Nothing," Mac answered; that was indeed the problem in a nutshell – she had wanted him, waited for him and he did nothing about it, preferring that stupid radio and then the newspaper instead.

"Mac?" Frank probed. "It doesn't look like nothing to me."

Her eyes floated from Harm to his step-father and whether it was his tone, or fatherly concern or just the need to get everything out in the open, Mac told him exactly what the 'nothing' amounted to and how it made her so blindingly angry it put them both in the perilous situation they had encountered and how she would never forgive herself.

When she had finished talking, Frank wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her head.  
"You know something, Mac?" he started quietly.  
"What?" she replied.  
"That radio...it was my fault. I asked Harm to fix it as soon as he could because, as I told you over dinner the other night, there was a danger of fire in the area. As it's a battery operated one, you would have been able to hear the alerts and information even if you had lost power."  
"Wouldn't it have been easier to buy a new one?" she questioned.  
"Easier, yes," he agreed. "But that radio is very special to me. I know it's 32 years old but it was the first prize in a father son fishing contest that Harm and I won the year I married his mother. We have had our battles and struggles over the years and yet when I remember that radio it brings us together."  
"Oh," Mac replied before wiping away her tears. "I never knew...I'm sorry."  
"You have nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart," he said gently. "Harm feels the same connection to the radio as I do...I guess he's still not that good at opening up about his feelings."

Silence fell once more as they both watched Harm. Soon enough, Harm's eyes opened and he smiled wearily at the pair in front of him.  
"Cottage is still there," he croaked. "A little damaged but still standing."  
"I know, son," Frank said, moving to the bedside and taking Harm's hand. "More importantly, how are you doing?"  
"A little damaged but still standing," he replied with a brief chuckle. "At least I will be," he added.  
"You're a very lucky man," Frank said, leaning down and kissing his forehead. "Now that you're awake and I know things are good, I'm going to go and phone your mother."  
"I'm surprised she's not here," Mac said, standing at the other side of the bed.  
"Oh, believe me, she wanted to be," Frank replied. "But she'd already got herself into such a state that I didn't think it would be good for her...besides, her Asthma is playing up with the smoke so it's not ideal at all."

Once Frank had left, Harm lifted up his partially bandaged hand and caressed Mac's face as gently as he could.  
"You doing okay?" he asked when he saw the fresh tears on her face.  
"Yeah," she said, cupping his cheek in her palm. "Still standing."  
"Can I give you a hug?" he asked and while he generally never asked permission, he knew she'd have to be the one who came and embraced him in the circumstances.

Leaning over, Mac rested her head on his chest while one arm slid behind his neck and the other rested on his arm. Harms arms wound around her waist and the heel of one wrapped hand made small circles on her back.  
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," Mac chanted in an almost inaudible voice.  
"What are you so sorry for?" he questioned, trying to get her to look at him but failing.  
"The run...the fire...the radio...the tank...your injuries...the whole thing," she got out between the sobs.  
"There's nothing to be sorry for," he replied, kissing her head.  
"There is!" she said defiantly as she pulled away. "I shouldn't have..."  
"Mac," he said firmly, trying to keep a grip on her. "Fine, there are things you shouldn't have done," he said, agreeing with her and hating the look of hurt it caused. "But there are also things I should have done and I am so sorry I didn't do them."

His apology was unexpected and Mac didn't quite know what to do with it.  
"What are you sorry for?" she finally asked.  
"I heard you and Frank," he said by way of explanation. "You don't know how badly I wanted to come into your room last night..."  
"Why didn't you?" she asked, not truly believing what she was hearing.  
"Because, when we are finally in bed together it will be after having an amazing time together and not because I skulked into your bed in the middle of the night," he said as more tears appeared in her eyes. Mac dropped her head back onto his chest. "You, Sarah MacKenzie are not and will never be a booty call...or a one night stand. Do you understand that?" Mac nodded and Harm pressed a kiss to her head. "I'm sorry I ever made you feel that you weren't the most precious thing in my life. I should have explained, in some sort of way, that while I wanted you more than anything, I didn't want to fall into bed with you because it was a convenient time."

Nothing more was said as he held her as tightly as possible and tried to soothe both the physical and emotional wounds they had sustained. Eventually, Mac fell asleep in a very awkward position, her legs still dangling off the side of his bed, her upper body twisted around to hold onto him. It was in this position Frank found them when he returned half an hour later.

"Mac doesn't look too comfortable, son," he offered when Harm open his eyes.  
"I know," he whispered. "But I can't move her from this position."

Gently, Frank moved Mac's legs onto the bed before pulling up the safety rail on the bed and draping a blanket over her.  
"Thanks, Frank," Harm whispered as Mac snuggled closer to him.  
"How's your leg?" he asked, taking a moment to run his hand over Harm's head.  
"A bit of a dull pain...nothing I can't handle," he said, taking Frank's hand in his. "We were so lucky...how are things on the mountain?"  
"Not good," he said sadly. "Death toll is six with another 12 unaccounted for...quite a few properties lost...not to mention the wildlife."  
"We were so lucky," Harm repeated.  
"Yes, we were," Frank replied. While it was Harm and Mac who survived the fires, he knew that had they succumbed his life would never be the same again.

After a short silence, Frank spoke again.  
"Your mom sends her love," he started. "She wants me to bring you two home...now."  
"I'd like that," Harm said. "Any idea how long I have to stay here?"  
"Overnight at least," he replied, having spoken to a nurse before he returned. "After that, they will either transfer you somewhere closer to La Jolla or let you come home. They need the beds."

Harm nodded and gave a small smile. He couldn't remember the last time he was so eager to return to the family home – it had always seemed like a chore before. This time he couldn't wait to see the house, hug his mother and spend as much time as possible with them.

By the time Mac stirred, Frank had left for home, wanting to give Trish a full account in person, but he promised he'd return first thing in the morning and help Harm convince the doctor that home was the best place for him.

Mac snuggled a bit deeper into Harm's arms before she realised where she was and what she was doing. She also realised that moving backwards wasn't an option, thanks to the safety rail, so she propped herself up on one elbow and looked at Harm.  
"How are you feeling?" she asked as she studied his face, pleased his colour was coming back.  
"I'm doing okay – last set of obs was good, pain's manageable, breathing is easier," he reported. "What about you?"  
"I'm doing okay," she replied, surprised she'd slept through the changing of her IV bag. "Feeling a little hungry."  
"Now, that's a surprise," Harm chided and Mac playfully punched him on the chest before laughing.  
"You hungry?" she asked him and he shook his head. "Did they feed you already?" she asked, scanning the room for evidence of a dinner.  
"No," he answered, "I'm just not hungry."

Studying his face, Mac decided not to push things; after all, she never wanted much to eat after surgery.  
"I'll press the buzzer and see if they can get you something," Harm offered, feeling behind him for the cord.  
"No, don't," she replied, pulling his hand back. "I'm fine."  
"Mac, if you're hungry you need to eat some food," he said, watching her.  
"Hospitals don't serve anything resembling food," she joked. "Besides, I'm okay."  
"I had money in my pockets, maybe you can get something from the vending machine. I'm sure they have chocolate," he offered and Mac nodded; that sounded better.

The first obstacle she faced was getting out of the bed without knocking into Harm. The safety rail made it awkward to go backwards and Harm's injured leg made it problematic to go forward. In the end, she scooted down to the foot of the bed and slid out between the rail and the foot plate.

Grabbing her IV pole, she faced her second challenge, finding Harm's clothes. When they were nowhere to be found, she frowned. True, Harm wouldn't be wearing them again due to the damage but they were still his and they should be here.

Opening the cupboard beside his bed, Mac found it empty. When she opened the drawer, she found a small wad of money wrapped in a band with Frank's business card enclosed. Written on his card was 'Just in case...' Mac smiled, Frank really was one of the most considerate men she'd ever met.

Using the opportunity to go to the bathroom first, Mac used the facilities before washing her face and raking her fingers through her hair. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, something she was trying to avoid, Mac shook her head. It would take a lot more than some water and a makeshift brush to make her look human.

After raiding the vending machine, Mac returned to Harm's room and found a male nurse in with him. Standing by the door, Mac waited while the nurse made his observations and redressed his leg. It was both of their first times looking at the wound properly and while Harm wasn't fazed by it, Mac felt sickened by the sight.  
"It's not that bad, Mac," Harm said, catching the look on her face.  
"It's so big," she replied, looking at the stitched up angry wound.  
"Hope she's still talking about the wound," the younger man said with a laugh and Harm chuckled as Mac's eyes widened.

Without any suitable comeback, Mac just stood there and watched as the fresh dressing was placed across the area and Harm's thigh was re-bandaged.  
"How's the pain?" the nurse asked when he saw Harm grimace.  
"Bearable," he replied, giving Mac a quick smile.  
"I can get some stronger pain relief for you, Harm," he offered, taping the bandage in place.  
"It's fine," he said. "Got everything I need right here," he added, holding his hand out for Mac.  
The nurse smiled as Mac came across and took his hand. "How about we see if we can get rid of this now?" the nurse said as he tapped the IV tube and Mac nodded.

Ten minutes later, the male nurse returned with the female one Mac had seen earlier in the day. With a dozen questions and another set of observations, she declared Mac fit enough to lose the IV but gave her a list of instructions and pamphlets on dealing with the after effect of fires and trauma.

"So..." Harm said when they were finally alone. "What did you get from the machine?"  
"Four different chocolate bars, a Pepsi and a Mountain Dew," she replied, gesturing to the goodies sitting on his side cupboard.  
"You don't like Mountain Dew," he said with a smile.  
"You do," she replied. "Thought it might taste a bit better than all that water."

Mac opened the bottle for him and helped him hold it to his lips. A few sips and he pulled his head back. As the cold rivulets trailed down his throat, Harm grinned, it was much better than water.

The following morning, Mac awoke before Harm and shifted carefully in the narrow hospital bed they were sharing. Mac had argued she'd sleep in the armchair but Harm had been insistent. After he'd exhausted all the logical arguments, he conceded that Mac should sleep in the chair if she wanted too, but he wouldn't sleep while she was there. To give strength to his claim, he forced himself to sit up in the bed and folded his arms. With Harm looking decidedly uncomfortable, Mac gave in immediately and climbed into the bed.

"Don't go," Harm muttered, as Mac tried to pull away.  
"I need the bathroom," she whispered in reply.  
"Don't go," he repeated, still in the realms of sleep.  
"Harm," she replied, reaching up and kissing his cheek. "I'll be right back...I just need the bathroom."

Eventually, Harm let go and, true to her word, Mac was back quickly. Instead of climbing into the bed, she sat alongside him and watched him. It wasn't long before she noticed she wasn't the only one watching him.  
"He's doing well, Frank," Mac said with a smile. "He slept well and his pain is controlled."  
"And how are you, sweetheart?" he asked, moving around the bed and greeting her with a hug and a kiss to the head.  
"Much better than yesterday," Mac said. "It all seems like a bad dream."  
"I know," he agreed. After watching the footage of the fires on the late night news when he arrived home the previous evening, Frank thought it looked very much like the things nightmares were made of.

After phone calls, reports and arrangements had been made, Harm was given permission to travel to LaJolla on the explicit understanding that he report to the Naval Medical Center in San Diego at 3:00 PM the following day. Knowing it was the only way he was going to be released, Harm agreed and soon he was sitting in the back of Frank's BMW, his leg outstretched along the seat. Mac was sitting in the front with Frank and the conversation on the hour drive back to La Jolla was minimal as the events of the day before hit home.

When they reached the Burnett house, they were greeted by a very tearful Trish. She had been desperate to see her son for herself. Too often, Harm had downplayed injuries and illnesses and, given the utter devastation of the day before, she wasn't all that convinced he was really alright.

"I'm okay, mom, really," he said as she tried to embrace him before he had gotten out of the car. "It's okay." This didn't seem to alleviate her stress and it wasn't until Frank came around and hugged her that Harm was able to get out. Reluctantly, Harm used the walking stick the hospital had insisted on to support his injured leg as Mac helped him into the house.

Once they were all inside and seated in the living room, Trish excused herself to get them lunch. Noting the tears in his mother's eyes, Harm eased himself from the sofa.  
"It's alright, son, I'll go," said Frank, placing a hand on his arm,  
"It's okay, I think this is something I need to do," he replied, covering Frank's hand with one of his. "But thanks. Maybe you and Mac could sort out the spare beds; I think I'm going to need a long nap after lunch."

Limping, Harm disappeared into the kitchen and found his mother with her hands leaning on the kitchen sink as tears streamed down her face. Quickly, he hugged her.  
"I'm really okay, mom," he reassured her, placing a kiss on her head. "A little battered and bruised but I'm okay."  
"I know you are," Trish replied with a sniffle.  
"Then why are you so upset?" he asked, pulling back and wiping her tears with a bandaged hand.  
"The Morrisons'...you know, Jack and Mary..." she started and Harm nodded.  
"They have the next cottage down the track from Frank's," he said and Trish nodded. "What about them? Did they lose the cottage?"  
Trish nodded again.  
"Are they alright?" Harm asked, concerned by his mother's demeanour.  
Trish shook her head. "They...they...didn't make it," she said in a strangled whisper. "They couldn't get out in time...they died trapped in their car in their driveway...with their two young grandsons."

It was then Harm's tears fell as he gained the insight into his mother's anguish; four lives taken just like that...four precious lives whose loss would impact on so many more for many years to come...  
"I'm so sorry, mom," he whispered, holding her tightly. It wasn't that she knew the family that well but she had to have been thinking that if they were dead, what hope did her son have when he was so close by. "I love you very much, mom."  
"Love you, son," she replied, trying to stem her tears.

By the time lunch was ready, Trish was composed and put out platters of mixed sandwiches and fruit, she had poured freshly made lemonade in the glasses and had spurned any offer of assistance, needing the time to herself. Harm ate well, his mother's curried egg sandwiches as well as her salmon and herb cream ones were his all-time favourites. Added to that, he'd really had nothing substantial to eat in thirty six hours and he was starving.

Trish smiled at the sight of her hungry son, finally allowing herself to believe that he was really alright. Mac, on the other hand, wasn't eating. While she had food on her plate she was trying to get away with moving it around the plate and breaking off bits of the sandwich.

"I can make you something else, dear," Trish said, watching Mac play with her food. "I have some chicken..."  
"No, thank you, Trish," she said quickly. "This is fine."  
"Then why aren't you eating it?" she asked quietly.  
"I'm sorry," she replied, tears filling her eyes. "May I please be excused?" she asked, a request ingrained in her from her childhood.  
"Certainly, sweetheart," Frank said and Mac jumped up and disappeared from view.

Harm found her minutes later sitting on the back step, her elbows resting on her knees and cradling her head in her hands. When she finally lifted her head to face him he was surprised there were no tears.  
"You okay?" he asked, gingerly sitting down alongside her.  
"Yeah, sorry," she said with a sigh. "Just needed some air."  
Harm studied her for a few moments. He was going to press her but in the end he decided that he'd just let her know he was there and let her talk to him on her own terms. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her closer before kissing her head.  
"Want me to sit with you a while?" he questioned, moving his hand down to take her hand.  
"Nah, I'm okay," she replied, kissing his cheek. "You go finish your lunch."  
"If I do, will you join me for a nap afterwards?" he questioned.  
"Sure," she replied with a smile.

When Harm returned to the table without Mac, both Frank and Trish looked at him waiting for an explanation. When none was forthcoming, Trish spoke.  
"Is Sarah okay?" she asked, putting down her coffee mug.  
"Yes, she is, mom. She's just getting some air," Harm reported, picking up his juice.  
"Is she feeling alright?" Trish probed.  
"I think so," Harm replied. "It's just all been a bit much, I think."

Trish nodded. She definitely knew that emotion but after hearing Frank's explanation the night before about how they happened to be caught in the fire, she was also pretty sure guilt was also a key factor and playing happy families may have been the last straw.

Standing, she grabbed Mac's plate and emptied the destroyed sandwiches before filling it with a fresh selection and picking up her drink.  
"Where are you going?" Harm asked as she rounded the table for the door.  
"To see Sarah," she stated, continuing on her path.  
"Look, mom..." he started but the stopped. Perhaps a woman would help her open up.

Trish found Mac just where Harm had left her and she sat down where he son had minutes before.  
"I know you're going to say you're not hungry, sweetheart," she said, pre-empting Mac's words. "But it's not going to help matters. So, let's start with a drink." She handed Mac her glass and watched as she drank two mouthfuls."Now, which one would you like first?" Trish tilted the plate towards Mac. When Mac hesitated, Trish picked up a chicken salad one and handed it to her.

"Please humour me," she said and Mac took the sandwich. "Now, I know you've had a rough few days," she started, resting the plate on her lap while she took hold of Mac's free hand. "And right now you probably just need some time and space, but I'm sorry, I can't give that to you," Trish explained. "Right now, I need to hold you and feed you and watch over you until I can convince myself you are okay and you are safe at home with me."

Mac turned to face the older woman in surprise. Those words were something you said to your child, something she should be saying to Harm, not her; especially when you considered she had only met the woman for the first time in recent days. The look of surprise must have been evident.

"Whether or not you know it, or Harm knows it, he loves you very much," Trish said by way of explanation. "There was no way he would have taken you to the cottage if he didn't. In all the years, Harm has never taken a friend there – not even as a teen. He always said it was too special for just anyone. So, that said, it is no surprise he would never have left without you. He doesn't blame you, I don't blame you, Frank doesn't blame you and you shouldn't blame yourself. Now, I know that's easier said than done but you shouldn't feel guilty about anything. I'm sure that for you to run yourself ragged like that, my son must have done something...or not done something as the case may be. And I think that if you took some time to think things through, you'd come to the realisation that you love him too. No man can make you as infuriated as the man you love."

Without knowing how to respond, Mac just sat there a little stunned about the whole thing. Her main difficulty with eating had been the overwhelming sense of guilt she had been experiencing, particular when she looked at Harm's mother.

"You," she continued as she ran her hand over Mac's hair, "Are such a big part of Harm's life...you make him who he is...you are the one that makes him smile...makes him be his best. He's never as happy as he is when you're around and while you and I don't know each other that well, you are the woman I want for my daughter...the one I want for my son."

With her heart overwhelmed and threatening to burst, Mac gave into her tears and soon found all the comfort and solace she needed in the older woman's arms.

Waking from his nap later that afternoon, Harm wasn't at all surprised that the empty space which had been beside him when he fell asleep was now occupied by Mac. While he would have preferred her to be facing him, perhaps with her head on his chest, the very fact she was sharing his bed gladdened his heart. For a while he watched her, hoping she was finding some peace and comfort in her slumber. He didn't know the nature of the conversation she had had with his mother, except that it had been long and intense.

Stopping to watch them on his way upstairs, he was surprised at how natural the relationship seemed; his mother always seemed a little standoffish when it came to meeting friends of his. Granted, they had all been male friends, well, male since he last brought a girlfriend home in his final year of high school.

Eventually, Mac's eyes struggled opened and she reached backwards to try and find Harm's hand. When she did, she linked her fingers through his the best she could and lay there quietly. There was so much she wanted to say but right now she had no words...she didn't want to ruin the moment, she didn't want to jump the gun and so she lay there.

"Mac," Harm whispered when she hadn't spoken in ten minutes.  
"Yes," she replied in equally hushed tones.  
"I really care about you and I would like to start a proper relationship with you," he said honestly. "Not one where we jump into bed on the first date...although that would be nice," he said with a grin. "I just think we owe it to ourselves to see where this goes and sort through our issues together. That is, if you are wanting to," he said before falling silent.

Rolling over in the bed, Mac looked at Harm and studied his face. His words had been simple and heartfelt. There was no threat or pressure to his words, just Harm opening his heart and saying what he wanted – something she wasn't used to hearing from him.  
"I think that's something I'd like to do too," she replied, squeezing his hand gently.

So it was, that in the aftermath of the inferno which had threatened them, claimed the lives of many, claimed the homes and livelihoods of many more, that Harm and Mac came to the realisation they had been blessed with a future, something which had been denied to others. More than that, they had made a simple agreement that the future was something they wanted to share together.

From the ashes of the inferno sprung new hope, a new beginning and the possibilities of so much more.

-Fin-

AN: I started writing this in 2009 after fires had devastated my beautiful state of Victoria. Then I stopped. It was very hard to catch the utter desperation and pain of the bushfire experience which became known as Black Saturday. I guess time makes it easier and while the scars of that fateful day will live on forever, writing has helped. I know I haven't captured the true nature and heartache of the day but then I don't think anyone could.

I am considering writing a sequel, 'From the Ashes' to follow their recovery, but we'll see if that materialises.

Much of the information below comes from Wikipedia, and while they don't always have the best reputation, as far as I can see, it's all correct.

The Black Saturday bushfires were a series of bushfires that ignited or were burning across the Australian state of Victoria on and around Saturday 7 February 2009 during extreme bushfire-weather conditions, resulting in Australia's highest ever loss of life from a bushfire. 173 people died as a result of the fires and 414 were injured.

As many as 400 individual fires were recorded on 7 February. Following the events of 7 February 2009, that date has since been referred to as Black Saturday.  
The fires destroyed over 2,030 houses, 3,500+ structures in total and damaged thousands more. Many towns north-east of the state capital Melbourne were badly damaged or almost completely destroyed, including Kinglake, Marysville, Narbethong, Strathewen and Flowerdale. Many houses in the towns of Steels Creek, Humevale, Wandong, St Andrews, Callignee, Taggerty and Koornalla were also destroyed or severely damaged, with several fatalities recorded at each location. The fires affected 78 individual townships in total and displaced an estimated 7,562 people, many of whom sought temporary accommodation, much of it donated in the form of spare rooms, caravans, tents and beds in community relief centres.

Overall statistics  
• 450,000 ha (1,100,000 acres) burnt  
• 414 people injured  
• 7,562 people displaced  
• Over 3,500 structures destroyed, including;  
o 2,029+ houses  
o 59 commercial properties (shops, pubs, service stations, golf clubs, etc)  
o 12 community buildings (including 2 police stations, 3 schools, 3 churches, 1 fire station)  
o 399 machinery sheds, 729 other farm buildings, 363 hay sheds  
o 19 dairies, 26 woolsheds  
• 25,600 tonnes (25,200 LT; 28,200 ST) of stored fodder and grain  
• 190 ha (470 acres) of standing crops  
• 168,000 ha (420,000 acres) of pasture  
• 735 ha (1,820 acres) of fruit trees, olives and vines  
• 7,000 ha (17,000 acres) of plantation timber  
• 3,921 ha (9,690 acres) of private bushland  
• 2,150 sheep, 1,207 cattle, and an unknown number of horses, goats, alpacas, poultry and pigs  
• Over 10,000 kilometres (6,200 mi) of boundary and internal fencing destroyed or damaged  
• Over 55 businesses destroyed.  
• About 211,000 tonnes (208,000 LT; 233,000 ST) of hay destroyed  
• Over 11,000 livestock killed or injured  
• The electricity supply was disrupted to 60,000 residents  
• Several mobile phone base stations and telephone exchanges damaged or destroyed.  
• 950 local parks, 70 national parks and reserves, and over 600 cultural sites and historic places were destroyed  
• The amount of energy released during the firestorm in the Kinglake-Marysville area was equivalent to the amount of energy released by 1,500 Hiroshima-sized atomic bombs.  
• Loss of wildlife predicted at over a million.  
• Bush fires which can travel up to 60km an hour were travelling that distance in 10 minutes.  
• At one stage, one fire was burning on a 100km front – something which is uncontainable.  
• The McArthur Forest Fire Danger Index had predicted February 7 would experience the worst fire danger ever in Victoria. According to the index, a figure of 50 was considered "extreme", but on Black Saturday it ranged between 120 and 180. In such catastrophic conditions, normal warnings became useless.  
• Most of those injured during the fires only suffered minor injuries. The fire was so intense and fast that people either died or suffered only minor injuries.

At the time of the disaster I read this article from our main newspaper – it remains, for me, one of the most emotional things I have ever read.

You'll have to type in the first bit, which is the **www . heraldsun . com . au** and add the following

**/news/marysvilles-last-moments-before-disaster-hit/story-e6frf7jo-1111118846958**

If you can't get it to come up (as this site makes it difficult) email me and I'll send you the proper link

Bless them all.


End file.
